


Killer Moves

by jadehqknb



Series: Yakuza AU [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Attempt at Romance, Blow Job, Brief Mention of Violence, Club Owner Daichi, Desk Sex, Dirty Talk, M/M, Minor Knife Play, Requited Love, Sexy Dancing, Slow Dancing, bottom Daichi, dominant akaashi, stripper akaashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:15:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29372205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadehqknb/pseuds/jadehqknb
Summary: Akaashi only meant for his time on stage at Killer Moves to be temporary. But he just can’t walk away, not now that he’s had a taste of forbidden fruit in the form of the club owner and yakuza boss, Sawamura Daichi. So he dances, night after night, just for the chance to have a party of one, one more time. And tonight is looking very, very promising.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Sawamura Daichi
Series: Yakuza AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2157552
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41
Collections: Daichi Love Fest 2021





	Killer Moves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Catastra_Fey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catastra_Fey/gifts).



> Daichi LoveFest Day 2 - Voice: soft/loud * Under the sun (And doesn’t the night go slow? When we are here alone)
> 
> To Cat: Thank you so much for all your encouragement, ideas and enthusiasm as I worked through each of the three pieces for this weekend. I hope you enjoy!

Akaashi yawns, stretching his arms over his head and pulling out at least three pops. The music is loud all around him and he shakes out his limbs, heels clacking backstage as he makes his way to the curtain. He pauses under the singular light in front of a wall of mirrors and takes in a glance at his ‘outfit’—teal blue thong, matching thigh-high stockings held by a garter belt, one topped with his blade holster, and a sheer white tank top. His intro song fires up and he steps through the split in the curtain, expression neutral and disinterested because he is. 

Somehow it works and he won’t knock it because if he had to smile and ‘glow’ like Hinata or be extra flirty like Suga he wouldn’t last very long. 

As it is, the ‘persona’ he’s chosen is closer to his true self and it makes swaying his narrow hips as he strips off fabric that much easier. He pulls the switchblade—always on him no matter what—from its holster, spinning it in and out: click, swish, spin, click. 

It’s extra rowdy in here tonight, a Saturday night packed with horny hooligans and businessmen looking for something ‘dangerous’. Akaashi takes them in, marks the ones he knows will end up mugged on their way out because they were stupid enough to think they could handle this place by themselves. 

The cheering spikes to a pitch loud enough to cover his music when with an expert flick of his wrist, Akaashi cuts the straps of his tight, sheer tank top sending it fluttering to the ground. It’s the fourth time he’s done it with this particular piece, able to stitch it roughly together so he doesn’t waste clothes. Suga told him it added to his aesthetic: pretty but rough. 

Akaashi doesn’t care as long as it earns him extra cash. 

Securing his blade, he drops to his knees, leaning back with legs spread to give a good view of a crotch the men and women around him salivate to get their hands on. He rises, sliding his hands over his torso, closing his eyes as he flexes and rolls his abs, seemingly in the throes of ecstasy when in reality he just wants to lie down. 

That is, until he sees _him_. 

Sawamura-san didn’t tell him he was coming here tonight. Not that he has to, it is his club afterall and he can come whenever he wants. He just usually does. Maybe it was a whim. 

Suddenly, Akaashi’s moves with more purpose, knowing those dark eyes are on him as he flaunts all he has for this small mass of the public. He rises to his feet, walking in long steps to the beat of the music, heels click-click-clicking as he goes. Grabbing the pole at the end of the line, he whips around it quickly, kicking out one leg to wrap around it and slides down. 

More cheering, yen and coins flying into the locked tip boxes surrounding the stage, but all of that falls to the background as Akaashi keeps his eyes fixed on a suit-clad Sawamura-san in his center stage seat, leg crossed, leaning into one hand, an amused smile barely concealed. 

Looks like Akaashi will have to try harder. 

He falls to all fours, his ass stinging as the thong cuts deeper into his crack but he ignores the discomfort in favor of sliding his hands forward slowly until he’s practically bowing, ass high in the air. 

All around him are cat-calls, whistles, shouts of desire to ‘spank that pretty, pale ass raw’. He only sees Sawamura-san, only hears his breathing despite the distance and ruckus around them. It’s dangerous because anyone _really_ paying attention is going to see what Akaashi promised himself he would never reveal. But he just can’t help it, he wants to do a good job for Sawamura-san, wants him squirming in his seat, wants him to lose control and grab Akaashi into his lap like he did the first time they were together. 

Together. Like they can’t be. 

Because Sawamura-san worries for Akaashi’s safety and Akaashi won’t be a kept pet. 

The reminder slaps into his brain like cold water and he has to work not to fall out of this new character he’s projected to the public. His saving grace is half these people won’t be here the next time he’s on stage and there are so many dancers, he’ll fade to the background in their drunken memories. 

He rolls to his back, finally breaking eye contact with Sawamura-san and thrusts his hips lewdly a few times. Coming back to himself, he realizes with an internal sigh of relief that his song set is nearly done and he can run away to the back to cool down, to get his head on straight and slap himself for being so stupid. 

At the crescendo, he flips up to his feet, sticking a landing no one has any business doing in these heels. He pops a hip, pulls his knife and flicks it out one last time as the song ends. 

The place erupts in cheers, money pouring into his tips boxes, but Akaashi just saunters away like he doesn’t care. 

A part of him doesn’t and he knows, if he’s not careful, it’s gonna get him in trouble.

~~

“Kashi’, the boss man wants to see ya,” Atsumu advises, popping his head into the locker room.

“K. I’ll be there in a minute,” Akaashi replies, sighing. 

“Nice work out there t’night. The crowd was beggin’ for an encore.” He walks in to set a manilla envelope on Akaashi’s makeup table. It’s bulging, full of his tips and his weekly salary because Sawamura-san spoils them. 

“Unlikely, but thank you.” Akaashi moves the envelope into his bag, pulls out his yoga pants and tugs them on, forgoing underwear and hoping Sawamura-san will forgive him for not looking fancy. More than likely this is a meeting like all the others since they stopped… whatever it was that was going on between them. 

He can’t help himself from touching up his makeup, however, making sure his eyeliner isn’t smudged. Wings perfected and lip gloss applied, he sprays on the body spray he only wears around Sawamura-san out of habit. He shrugs. Too late now and he can’t take a shower, can’t keep the boss waiting. 

Slipping on his tennis shoes, Akaashi pulls on the matching jacket of his athleisure set and zips it up before lifting his bag over his shoulder. There are calls of ‘good morning’ as he goes and he returns them with quiet replies and a wave over his shoulder as he exits the room, following Atsumu through the back hallways. It’s unnecessary for him to be here, Akaashi thinks, but there are protocols that Sawamura-san insists on and his staff do not deviate from them. 

“Here ya go,” Atsumu says as they reach the door. “Don’t get in too much trouble in there.” He winks, laughs when Akaashi punches his shoulder. He uses the same fist to knock on the door, three crisp raps of knuckles against wood. 

“Come in.” 

Akaashi twists the knob, stepping into the surprisingly dim office. “Drink too much tonight?” he asks by way of greeting. 

“You can set your bag down.” 

So this isn’t going to be quick. Akaashi barely suppresses a sigh, remembering his place despite the history between them. 

“Unless you’re eager to get going,” Sawamura-san tacks on because the man misses nothing. 

Akaashi looks at him, casual in his stance against the desk despite the crispness of his suit. “I mean, it has been a long night.” 

“You were working quite hard, weren’t you?” Sawamura-san remarks with a wry grin. “I didn’t expect to get a private show so publicly.” 

Despite his horror of the fact, Akaashi’s cheeks heat at the look in Sawamura-san’s eye. “Sorry,” he mumbles. 

“What are you apologizing for?” 

Akaashi doesn’t know but he’s tired and wishes Sawamura-san would just get on with whatever it is he wants to say so Akaashi can get home to his cats, his left over onigiri and his couch. 

“Nothing, sorry, I—was there something you needed?” His tone is curt, probably more so than it should be from employee to employer. “I should have asked Atsumu if I should change back into… something less comfortable.” No, he took it upon himself to come as he was, not as how may be expected. It’s testament to just how tired he is, both from the long night and this longing he can’t shake. 

Sawamura-san doesn’t look put out, still so perfect, so poised and together and Akaashi’s heart aches to look at the concern on his handsome face, aching at the wish that he could have more of him outside of these four walls. But he can’t, he refuses to be swept away to a high rise and encased in a cage no matter how gilded it is. 

He realizes with sudden clarity he’s already in a cage, one of his own making. Because if he were honest—truly, fully and completely honest—Sawamura-san’s world of grit and blood suits Akaashi more than the one of fantasy and frills at the club. He ran from it, hid it away in himself and ignored it long enough that he truly believed he’d changed. 

But he was only lying to himself as much as he lies to everyone else. Because in some ways it’s easy playing to people’s expectations than being true to himself. 

“There is something I want, something I need.” Sawamura-san pushes away the desk, closing the blinds that look down at the club floor. The loud music is thumping against the wall but it’s a dull murmur here, soundproofing doing its job well. He moves to the door, reaching beyond Akaashi to lock it, pressing him in, and despite the height Akaashi has on him, he feels small with him so close he can smell the mint on his breath. 

Before Akaashi can lean in and steal a kiss no longer his to take, Sawamura-san pulls away but takes Akaashi’s hand in his, sliding the bag off his shoulder with the other to land with a heavy _thunk_ against the floor. He walks backward, eyes never leaving Akaashi’s. His free hand reaches into his pocket, drawing out his phone. With a few swipes of his thumb music erupts around them, further drowning out the rest of the world. It’s a soft song, the croon of romance within it and Akaashi’s heart speeds up at the sound of it. 

Without hesitation, Sawamura-san pulls him close, one hand on his waist, the other still holding his hand but now their arms are extended up, bent at the elbow in classic slow dance pose. His eyes are still burning through Akaashi as he says, voice soft but clear, “I was hoping tonight, rather than dance _for_ me, you’d dance _with_ me.” 

And that’s what snaps Akaashi out of his daze. 

He pulls away, holding his hand as though burned and he might as well be, still able to feel the residual heat of Sawamura-san’s palm in his. “What the hell, Sawamura! I thought… you said…” He’s going to cry, oh _god_ . How cliche, how typical, how _stupid!_ But he can’t help it, not when his heart has burned and broken every time the memory of their last tryst plays in his mind, not when his skin longs for the gentle touch of hands tainted by blood, not when he’s so in love he’s sick with himself. 

“I know what I said, but Akaashi,” Sawamura-san sighs, running a hand through his hair, “I can’t stop thinking about you. About _us_. I just… I had to see you, had to have you just to myself after that performance.” His eyes darken, his voice getting louder as he continues. “Fuck, the filth I heard in that crowd when you were done, the things people wanted to do to you. All I could think about was getting to you, to touching you because once upon a time I _could_ and I realized how stupid I was to give that up.” 

He takes a deep breath, shaking his head, a humorless laugh huffing out. “I’m not trying to manipulate you. This is purely because I fell for you and I’m being selfish.” He shrugs, meeting his eyes to Akaashi’s again. “It’s kind of what I do.” 

Akaashi’s chest is tight making it hard to breathe but he manages somehow to answer, his brows knit together in a deep frown. “You are the furthest thing from selfish, Sawamura. I know why you do what you do better than you think. Is it dangerous? Yes. Are you stupid about it sometimes? Definitely.” 

He moves closer, reaching out a hand to that handsome jaw, tracing along its line. “But you’re also kind and generous and trusting and one day _that_ is what’s going to get you killed.” He steps even closer, pushing Sawamura-san to lean against his desk again, slotting himself between thick thighs, relishing in the large hands that sneak under the hem of his jacket to lay hot against his skin. “So instead of standing by to watch it happen, I’m coming with you as you asked. But,” he lays a finger to Sawamura-san’s lips, silencing any protest, “it’s not because I need protection. It’s because you do. My knife skills aren’t just for show. When I say I’m willing to kill for you, I mean it, literally.” 

Sawamura-san’s stares at him, his expression unreadable but then he smiles, soft, warm. He sits on the desk, pulling Akaashi long with him, wrapping his legs around him just under his butt. “Have it your way, beautiful. I’ll be in your care.” 

The tightness in his chest unfurls and Akaashi returns the smile, leaning in to press it against Sawamura-san’s before opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. He moans into it, rocks his hips forward and clings to Sawamura-san, desperate to be closer. 

Sawamura-san must feel the same, tugging the zipper of Akaashi’s jacket down roughly, palms sliding over his skin making him sigh. He kisses down his throat to his chest, licking his nipple making Akaashi arch into his hold. 

“More, I need more,” Akaashi whispers, fingers digging into Sawamura-san’s shoulders as he lavishes attention to his chest. 

“Guess we’ll move our dancing to more of the horizontal type,” Sawamura-san chuckles against his skin. 

“You only get away with saying shit like that because you can.” 

“Gotta take my perks where I can get them,” he laughs. 

“Shut up and get your clothes off. I’ve missed you so much,” Akaashi admits. He tugs at the tie encircling Sawamura-san’s neck. 

The song is still playing, soft in the background and apparently stuck in a loop as he reaches into his pocket and takes out his blade. He flicks it open, pulling back to focus on what he’s doing, sliding it up the front of Sawamura-san’s shirt, slicing through the fabric with ease. Despite his care, Akaashi still nicks the skin beneath, but he licks over the small drops of blood, enjoying the coppery taste far more than he should. 

Sawamura-san just tips his head back, moaning, letting Akaashi have his way, digging his hand into the masses of his wavy hair, gripping tighter when Akaashi’s teeth tug at his nipple. “Should I carve my name onto your chest?” Akaashi asks, teasing the point of the blade closer. 

“I wouldn’t mind it,” Sawamura-san groans, tilting his head to meet his eyes to Akaashi’s and the trust there is overwhelming. 

“Hmm… tempting… but not right now. Right now, I’m going to take your pants off, suck your cock and then fuck you against that desk,” Akaashi murmurs. Putting action to the words, he drops to his knees, roughly unbuckling Sawamura-san’s pants, pulling them and his underware down in one go. His cock is fully hard, bouncing in front of Akaashi’s face and he licks his lips at the sight of it. 

He moves slowly, nuzzling at his dick, at his sack, licking both gently before encasing him fully in his mouth. Sawamura-san makes little movement beyond petting over Akaashi’s hair, his legs trembling. Setting his knife down, Akaashi grabs the back of his thighs, kneading the firm muscles as he swallows him down into his throat. 

“Keiji,” Sawamura-san moans and the sound of his name on his lips in that tone of utter want has Akaashi’s cock firmer up even harder. 

He pops off, licking his lips as he stands to his full height. He leans in, towering over Sawamura-san. “Take off your shoes, get fully out of your pants and bend over… Daichi,” he whispers in his ear. 

“Yes, sir,” Daichi says with a smile, stealing a quick kiss as Akaashi moves away to give him room to move. 

While Daichi does as told, Akaashi moves to the drawer of his desk where he knows lube, condoms and toys are kept. It’s no secret Daichi dips into his treasure trove of sexy and willing casual partners, not having taken a proper partner in recent memory due to his own concerns. But now that he has Akaashi, he’ll have little use for these. 

“Keiji,” Daichi says and Akaashi turns, breath catching in his throat at the sight his lover makes bent over laying on the desk with arms spread wide, his ass out and waiting for him, his pupils dilated with lust.

“Well aren’t you pretty?” he asks, sauntering back around the desk, drinking in the vision of compliance he makes. There are very few people who have ever seen the indomitable Sawamura Daichi so vulnerable. He traces one finger over the humps of his ass, landing a quick sharp spank just because he _can._

He opens a condom, stroking lube over his cock before rolling the barrier on it. He’d love to fuck him raw, but those other partners weigh heavily in his mind—both his and Daichi’s—and they’ve always been careful regardless, neither to his knowledge being with anyone, including each other, without protection. 

“I’m going to fuck you open, Daichi. Split you on my cock and make you sob. Does that sound good?” 

“Yes, sir,” Daichi sighs, fingers clenching, scraping against the wood of the desk. 

Akaashi steps up behind him, slicking the leftover lube on his fingers against his hole and Daichi sighs at the touch, presses back seeking more. “So eager,” Akaashi chuckles, prodding his hole and crooking his finger to tease. 

“Please.” The entreaty is soft, but the moan is loud when Akaashi complies with his request and begins pushing beyond his rim, sliding in with a steady even pace. 

He intends to draw this out, to savor and enjoy Daichi as he’s longed to night after night, laying in his bed, fisting his cock, crying out the name of this man he never truly believed he’d have a chance with again. 

When he’s bottomed out, Akaashi sighs, lays himself over Daichi’s back, pressing soft kisses between his shoulder blades up to the back of his neck. “I missed you, so much,” he whispers, barely rocking his hips, just enjoying the feel of Daichi’s tight heat around his cock. 

“I missed you, too, gorgeous,” Daichi replies. 

Akaashi leans up again, watching himself slide almost full out of Daichi, keeping his breathing even so he doesn’t lose his composure and fuck him too fast. There’s time enough for that later. 

He pushes in against, keeping one hand pressed on Daichi’s back, the other gripping his hip. 

In. Out. Push. Pull.

They’re both moaning, letting out sighing encouragement to each other until Akaashi can stand it no longer. “Put your arms behind you,” he groans and Daichi does, setting his fists against his lower back. Akaashi encircles his wrists, lifting to move Daichi away from the desk just enough that he won’t get hurt. Then he slams into him. 

“Oh god!” Daichi cries out loudly, his breathing heavy. 

Akaashi fucks him in earnest now, the slap of his thighs heavy against Daichi’s ass. Daichi’s voice grows louder as he goes. “Keiji! Keiji— fuck!” 

“That’s it, baby, let everyone hear you who’s making you feel so good,” Akaashi praises, driving in and out, over and over and over. 

There’s sweat on his brow rolling down his temple, his breathing strained as he goes harder, harder, _harder._ He may not have yet carved his name on Daichi’s skin but he’s damn well going to impress this upon him, that as much as Akaashi is Daichi’s, Daichi’s is his and he will be treated as such accordingly. 

“Keiji, I’m going to come. Oh god, I’m going to come on your cock!” Daichi shouts, his arms contracting, bulging his biceps and Akaashi wishes to fuck they were doing this in front of a mirror so he could better watch Daichi fall completely apart. 

Another time perhaps. 

“That’s right, baby, come on my cock, come on it!” 

“Hnnngh… ohgodohgodohgod!” 

Akaashi feels the coil of Daichi’s body then the tremor of release, hears the splatter of cum against the desk. 

It’s enough to draw him into his own orgasm and he thrusts in one last time to pulse within Daichi’s body, letting his arms go. Daichi’s palms slap against the desk, his breathing labored as he stands with Akaashi buried in his ass and his own cum undoubtedly smeared across his chest. 

Limbs shaking from the exertion, Akaashi pulls out as gently as he can. Daichi slumps to his knees, back heaving up and down and Akaashi worries for a moment he went too hard. “Are you ok?” he asks, stooping to lay a hand on Daichi’s back. 

“I’m… fine… _damn.”_ Daichi pivots, landing on his ass, leaning against the desk. His head lolls to the side, eyes blinking open slowly. His hair is mussed and his face is tinted red. There’s some lingering drool in the corner of his mouth from breathing open-mouthed so long and cum drying on his chest. 

He looks a fucked out beautiful _mess_. 

“Come here,” he whispers, voice hoarse from his screaming. 

Akaashi leans in, laying his lips to Daichi’s, cupping that handsome face. “Can you stand? We should get you a bath,” he says eyeing the door of Daichi’s office’s private bath. 

“Hmm… gimme a few. Just gotta… get the room to stop spinning.”

“Fuck, I was too rough,” Akaashi mutters, petting Daichi’s hair. 

Daichi grabs the hand, pulling it to his lips and kisses the palm making Akaashi’s insides melt. “You were amazing, gave me exactly what I wanted,” he assures. He pulls him closer, laying his lips to his jaw, to his cheek, to his lips. “It was perfect. Just like you.” 

“Stop being sappy,” Akaashi admonishes but they both know he loves it. 

They remain stationary for a few moments more, Akaashi kneeling and Daichi with legs sprawled out, chest rising and falling slower now as his pulse calms down.

“I’ll go get the water started,” Akaashi says, rising to his feet. He holds back winces under the protest of his muscles, walking to the bathroom and flicking on the light. With a few turns of the taps, he has perfectly hot water streaming in no time. Picking up a bottle of bubble bath, he squeezes out some of the contents, swishing the water to mix it in. 

“Mmm… vanilla, one of my favorites,” Daichi says from behind him. 

Akaashi looks him up and down, still hungry even after their long fuck. 

“I know. Why do you think I wear it?” Akaashi admits, winking. 

“Such a minx,” Daichi teases, leaning down but he doesn’t have to steal a kiss, not when Akaashi meets him halfway, pressing their lips together. 

“ _Your_ minx,” he corrects. “Now, let’s get cleaned up so we can get dirty again.” 

They settled into the bath, Daichi behind Akaashi with his legs around him. He kisses his neck, soft at first with increasing pressure, suckling the skin. “Oh, I don’t know, I think there’s room for some good _clean_ fun, too,” he rumbles against his ear, sliding his hand over Akaashi’s thigh to encircle his cock, stroking slowly making Akaashi moan quietly. 

“You and your puns,” he protests weakly, tipping his head back to rest on Daichi’s shoulder. 

“You love it,” Daichi purrs in his ear. 

_I love you_ Akaashi thinks but does not say. There’s time enough for that, he thinks, kissing Daichi long and deep as he strokes him beneath the water. 


End file.
